


hold me without touch

by ToriCeratops



Series: Leigh [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Related, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg, Post Mpreg, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22973536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/pseuds/ToriCeratops
Summary: Malcolm doesn't want to move back to New York, doesn't want to face his past, his family, Gil.  Not after that night three years ago that changed everything, changed his life so thoroughly there was no going back.Not after Gil cut him off, cut him out of his life, at a time they needed each other most.Can he ever forgive Gil?  Can Gil ever forgive himself?(For a Prompt Fill on the Kink Meme)
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Series: Leigh [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654393
Comments: 30
Kudos: 143
Collections: Prodigal Son Kink Meme





	hold me without touch

**Author's Note:**

> MPREG is _almost entirely_ off screen. There are like, four lines about it before we get to proper Kid Fic.
> 
> For a prompt on the [Kink Meme:](https://prodigal-kink.dreamwidth.org/447.html?page=5#comments) Gil and Malcolm hook up one time shortly after Jackie's funeral. Gil feels incredibly guilty about it (he's still grieving his wife, feels bad about how much he wants Malcolm, age difference), but Malcolm goes back to DC anyway so they can basically pretend it didn't happen. But then 3 years later Malcolm gets fired from the FBI and shows up in NY with a half Filipino toddler.

It’s been two months since the funeral.

Just over two months since he saw Gil smile or heard laughter in his voice.

Malcolm had stayed for a couple days after, to make sure he was as okay as he could have been. He would have stayed longer but Gil had insisted he get back to his life, that he not drop everything just for him. 

Though he’d done as Gil asked, he hadn’t made any promises about not checking up on him from time to time.

He picks Gil up at the station and drags him to dinner, a diner that is an old haunt of theirs from when Malcolm was a kid. Jackie had never liked it - too much grease in the air - so it’s the safest place he can think to take him. They chat over burgers and fries, and by the time their milkshakes come Gil actually manages half a smile, though it doesn’t go anywhere near his eyes. Malcolm is shocked to learn that Gil hasn’t been drinking - at all. Apparently he’d been so afraid that the first time he crawled into a bottle he’d never crawl out again that he’d just locked everything up. 

It makes sense, when Malcolm thinks about it. Gil’s always been a casual drinker and the sudden and unexpected loss like his could make anyone go into an alcohol fueled tailspin. 

They stay for hours, keeping the coffee cups full and getting the occasional refill on their milkshakes. When the drunk crowd starts showing up from the local bars, they both figure it’s time to leave.

Turns out, as much as Malcolm had wanted to stay out and keep up the conversation as long as possible, it was Gil who really hadn’t wanted to go home. 

“Wanna come in?” Gil asks, after a heavy swallow. He stares, eyes empty, up at the house.

Malcolm can’t say no to that, not that he ever would of course. He loves Gil, more than he should. And though he knows nothing will ever come from what he feels, that doesn’t mean he can’t be there for the man as long as he needs him.

At three AM, when Gil kisses him, Malcolm has to re-evaluate everything he’d thought he understood about the man.

It’s a slow but needy kiss, Gil holding Malcolm carefully against the wall in the hall that leads to the bedroom, a hand cradling his face, his lips chapped and insistent. Malcolm doesn’t know what to do with his hands at first, placing them tentatively against the older man’s chest. But when Gil licks against Malcolm’s lips, begs for entrance, Malcolm grips his shirt tightly and lets him in. 

He tastes of mint and chocolate and coffee, and he is mind meltingly good at this. Malcolm’s toes curl into the plush carpet just from the way Gil’s kiss is so all consuming. 

When Gil presses a leg between Malcolm’s and he realizes they’re both getting hard Malcolm breaks away from the kiss and drops his head back against the wall with a thud. The pain is sharp and he’s out of breath but he’s more worried about the way Gil’s mouth moves to his neck, how his own hips rock up for more friction when the older man leaves a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses down his skin. 

“Gil…” Malcolm whines, slipping his hands into Gil’s hair to tug, to try and force them both to stop, to take a breath. “We shouldn’t do this.” And even though he absolutely pulls with one hand, his other can’t help but just card through the soft black locks, trying to hold him closer.

Everything in Malcolm’s body is a contradiction of want and shouldn’t, of need and fear.

Gil pulls up just enough to look into Malcolm’s eyes and, in his chest, the younger man’s heart breaks. There are unshed tears in his gaze, blurring the look of desire that still burns there despite the moisture. 

Gil leans in for another kiss but just ghosts his lips across Malcolm’s, a warm, heavy hand at the side of the younger man’s neck.

“ _Please._ ”

His voice is quiet and wrecked, and Malcolm can’t help but just give in and hand himself over.

Gil leads him back to his bedroom and takes his time. Their clothing is removed slowly, Gil mapping every inch of Malcolm’s skin with his hands and his lips, taking him apart piece by gentle piece. When he opens him up it’s so caring, so fucking tender, that Malcolm almost tears up himself. 

The best, and the worst, is the way Gil kisses him when he finally slides in, Malcolm’s legs locked around his waist. He never stops, never leaves his lips as he starts to move, keeping his hands touching him everywhere, kisses him like he needs it to breathe, like the way he’s slowly fucking Malcolm into oblivion is secondary to the connection of their lips. 

He has no idea how long they rock together, how long he loses himself into the feel of Gil filling him up, driving him mad. When Malcolm finally comes it’s with a soft, surprised gasp and Gil follows him over almost immediately, biting hard onto Malcolm’s shoulder as he empties deep within the younger man’s body.

No words are shared between them, though they stay there, locked together, for a long time, holding and kissing one another like this is the only opportunity they’ll ever have.

Malcolm’s heart aches, terrified it’s going to be.

***

Two months later, leaving the twelfth voice mail for Gil to call him back, please, he needs to talk to him, Malcolm realizes that he had been right.

***

The first time he lets himself break down and cry, true, full on sobbing tears, is when he feels their baby kick while he’s all alone in his DC apartment.

***

Malcolm tells only the people who _need_ to know. Which is his immediate supervisor, and his doctors. All of his doctors. His co-workers will figure it out soon enough. His mother will get a call after she’s born. That will go over great. 

The entire time he's expecting, Malcolm never stops trying to call Gil.

***

An hour after Leigh is born, while he’s alone and trying to make sense of his new life in a cold and empty hospital room, he tries to call Gil one more time. 

When he doesn’t pick up, Malcolm never tries again.

***

Leigh is perfect. 

She is so tiny with tanned skin and dark brown eyes and jet black hair. Even though she looks achingly like her father it doesn’t make Malcolm love her any less. Her cries are soft and she sleeps well almost immediately. 

As he had expected, telling his mother goes over _swimmingly._ She’s in DC two hours later, banging on his apartment door. Apparently, she had picked up Ainsley on her way out of town because they both start to let into him until the moment their eyes see the little bundle in his arms. 

Just as it had been for him, it’s love at first sight. 

They spoil her rotten, as all good Grandmothers and Aunts should do.

***

Malcolm hates how often he has to leave his little girl with her nanny when he’s shipped around the country. Thankfully, he’s kept local more than he used to be, which will put a slow down on his career path but it’s worth it. Still, he has to leave from time to time, making sure to check in with video calls every night at the same time. 

Before he heads to Tennessee to chase down Springer he leaves her with extra cuddles and a face full of butterfly kisses, her giggles keeping him company as he finally forces himself to leave her in the care of Andy who has been her nanny since the day she came home.

***

New York is the last place he should go.

What he should do is take a nice, big chunk from his trust fund and just disappear with Leigh to some random small town USA and start his life over. 

But he can’t bring himself to do it. He can’t bring himself to run away completely. Even if New York holds so many skeletons waiting in the dark.

***

His mother offers to have his old loft renovated, maybe to add a couple rooms upstairs. But he doesn’t want to stay in DC any longer than he has to so he checks to see if she has anything else available in one of her many properties that’s ready to move into. Luckily, she has the perfect place. 

It’s brighter than he’s used to, and he’s sorely tempted to make some changes the second he moves in. He’ll have to get some good locking cabinets for the weapon collection he still refuses to get rid of as soon as possible but other than that it’s perfect for their little family of two. 

There’s even an office, and a guest space for Andy to sleep if he ever has to stay the night. Malcolm is beyond grateful he had agreed to move to New York with them. Though as Andy had put it, it’s not like he was doing anything else with his life. (Apparently he’d been dying to get out of DC for years and just never had a good enough excuse or funds. Malcolm had provided both.)

The first full day is easy, simple. They settle in and he takes Leigh to a hardware store to let his three year old pick out her favorite shade of pink. Turns out, she’s rather a fan of green, so apparently they’re going with a forest theme for her new room rather than princesses or ballerinas. Which is just fine with him. Her Grandmother even offers to hire a rather famous artist to come paint small woodland creatures on her walls. 

Day two goes to hell in a handbasket really fucking fast. 

When Ainsley leaves him at the river to chase her story and Malcolm hears that achingly familiar voice his heart drops into his stomach. 

“Gil? What are you doing here?”

“Heard you were back, city boy.” He removes his shades and Malcolm hates how devastatingly handsome he still looks, how his heart still flutters at that smile. “You know it’s not nice to sneak home and not tell your friends.”

“Well, three years is a long time to go without talking to people who would call me that.” Malcolm says rather pointedly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. 

Gil, at least, has the decency to look ashamed. “I know, kid. I’m sorry, I just,” he throws his arms out and lets them fall heavily at his side then tries again. “I was really messed up and I took things really hard.” Gil drops his head. “And you got caught in the crossfire.”

More than just Malcolm got caught in the fucking crossfire but he’s too twisted up inside to point that out, to blow up at him, to explode and tell him everything he needs to say, needs to shout at the world. At Gil.

“So, what do you want?” He bites out, standing tall.

Gil nods with a shrug. “Direct and to the point.”

“Is there anything else I should be?”

The older man frowns and looks away for a moment, eyes full of sorrow, but he schools his features quickly and looks back at Malcolm. “I need help on a case.”

“Of course you do.”

***

He sends Andy home as soon as he makes it back to his apartment, not surprised to find Leigh still trying to keep herself awake with books in her bed. She’s cleverly set several toys behind the edge of her curtains so that light from the city bleeds into her room just at the right angle she can make out the pictures. Though she tries to quickly hide it under her blanket when Malcolm pokes his head in, he doesn’t bother getting onto her this time. Instead, he scoops her up and scoots her over, pulling her into his arms as he lays back against her head board. 

“Daddy, read me story?” 

“Of course, Sunshine. What are we reading?” 

She wiggles down out of the bed and grabs her favorite book from the bookshelf on the other side of the room, handing it up to him before carefully crawling up the steps into the bed that is far too big for her. 

“Oh, my goodness.” Malcolm makes a show of flipping through the pages, then makes sure she’s settled in his lap again. “This is going to take for _ever_ to read. Are you sure we have enough time before tomorrow?”

“You can do it!” She assures him, her small, pudgy little hands reaching for the book and carefully flipping back to page one. 

“At the far end of town where the Grickle-grass grows and the wind smells slow-and-sour when it blows and no birds ever sing excepting old crows... is the Street of the Lifted Lorax.”

Leigh settles in with a happy sigh, her head resting back against his chest. As he reads, he relaxes. No matter what else is going on, he’s got her, he’s got his little girl and she’s all that matters. 

“I will call you by Whisper-ma-Phone,” he puts on a new lilt to the Onceler’s voice but Leigh shakes her head. 

“No, no, no. That’s wrong, daddy.” She twists her head around and frowns up at him with a curious look in your eyes. “Did you forget?”

“Maybe,” he says with an exaggerated worried tone. “Do you think you can help me remember?” 

They spend a lot of time going back and forth giggling over voices and silly attempts to recreate the one she’s making but still sound like the one she’s used to actually hearing from him. Just as he’s finally going again - in the proper voice this time - his phone starts buzzing in his back pocket.

“You got bees,” Leigh proclaims wisely.

He rolls his eyes since she can’t see him do it and pulls it out to ignore the call without even looking. “Now, where were we?”

Two pages later, the phone goes off again. “The bees is back!” Leigh giggles so hard she almost rolls off Malcolm’s lap and he catches her with a tickle to her belly before finally grabbing for his phone. He’s about to just turn the stupid thing off when he makes the mistake of looking at the screen and seeing it’s Gil calling. 

He shouldn’t answer. It’s what the asshole deserves. But he can’t stop himself. “Give daddy just a second then we’ll keep going, okay?”

Leigh just nods and curls up in his lap again. Quiet means tired. Maybe she’ll fall asleep before the book is done.

“Bright.” His tone is more clipped than he intends, but he’s not overly concerned about it. 

“Hey, kid. You got a second?” Gil sounds distant, a little lost, and Malcolm has to close his eyes and breathe deep to ignore the butterflies that still sends to his gut.

“Not really. What’s up?” Malcolm starts running his fingers through the fine strands of Leigh’s hair and leans forward to press his nose against the top of her head. She still has the lingering scent of baby that he loves and he can hear her breathing beginning to even out. 

“I wanted to try and apologize,” Gil starts with a sigh. “And I want to do it right. I was hoping you could come over, or I could pick you up and go somewhere.”

Malcolm doesn’t say anything for a moment, just breathing deeply and holding Leigh a little tighter. When he finally does speak, he’s quite proud of how steady his voice is even though he doesn’t feel it at all. “I really can’t, Gil.”

“Look, I know I fucked up. But I have missed you so much, kid. I - “

“Gil,” Malcolm interrupts him, choking back on the sob that is threatening to escape. “I really don’t have time. Look. If you need help on another case, give me a call.”

He hangs up before Gil can say anything else and the second he does he feels a tear drop down his cheek. It makes him so angry that after all this time the older man affects him like this, that just his voice can make his insides all knotted up and confused. Before he can wipe away the moisture on his cheek, Leigh twists and looks up at him with a sleepy frown. 

“Daddy cry?”

“Yeah, baby. Daddy’s a little sad right now.”

She crawls up a little further and puts her hands on either side of Malcolm’s face, then looks him directly in the eye. “It’s okay to cry, daddy. Just breathe. In. Out.” 

It’s what he does for her every time she can’t get a hold of her emotions. Acknowledge it, accept it, breathe through it. Her words just make more tears fall and he actually has to sniff and bite his lip to keep it from trembling. He does breathe, with her, but after only a couple breaths he wraps her up in his arms and holds her close, tears falling freely. 

“Thank you, baby girl. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She hugs his neck extra tight then snuggles in close against his shoulder.

He can do this. Whatever happens, he’ll make it through. For her, he can do anything.

***

Gil, surprisingly, does call him in again. 

After everything he did on the last one and the way he’d shut him down on the phone he’d expected to never hear from him again.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

But he does. And Malcolm goes. Because that’s what Malcolm does. 

He solves crimes, and he says yes to Gil when he really, really shouldn’t.

It’s not the worst thing he’s ever seen, though the snakes are a surprise, and the little girls he saves from their father nearly tear his heart in two. Despite not really wanting to face Gil, not wanting to hear him try and make apologies again, he stays for that drink. He soaks in the praise, and avoids the pain of answering why he came home truthfully. Too truthfully anway. When Gil says ‘to family’ he almost breaks. But he keeps his cool, and toasts to the family Gil doesn’t even know he has.

Wouldn’t even answer the phone to let Malcolm ever tell him in the first place. 

Dani taking him home is… frustrating, to say the least.

Especially when she insists on bringing him upstairs.

“Hey, Malcolm.” Andy is standing at the sink in the kitchen scrubbing something as he and Dani stumble through the front door. Dani nearly drops him in surprise, but doesn’t say anything. 

“Hey, uh. Is Leigh asleep?” Malcolm crosses every finger and toe he has hoping she is. 

He’s never been one for good luck.

“Daddy!” She zooms out of her room, barrelling into his legs and demanding to be picked up. As much as he wants to, he recognizes what a terrible idea that is in his current state and kneels down to kiss her cheek. 

“You are supposed to be in bed, Sunshine. Go back, right now, and I promise to take you out for a special breakfast treat tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

Even though she pouts, she gives him a sloppy kiss on the cheek as well then trudges off back to her bedroom.

“You have a daughter… and a…”

“Nanny.” Malcolm quickly says before she can offer anything else. “Don’t make it weird.” He gestures silently for her help standing upright again then looks over at said nanny. “Speaking of which. Andy!” The world sways a little, or maybe he does, and he moves towards the bar and leans forward against it trying to get his balance. “I had to go to the hospital today and got given something that’s not sitting right. Can you stay the night?”

“Got nowhere better to be,” he says with a warm smile before tossing a hand towel over his shoulder. Malcolm pays the guy a shit ton of money to be on call basically 24/7. He hopes the kid is saving it up for something awesome one day.

Once Dani guides him to where he points towards his own bedroom and he crawls on top of the bed she leans back against the door jamb and watches silently for a moment. 

“What?”

He’s face first on the bed, head at the foot of the mattress.

“This is just… weird.” She admits, glancing back over her shoulder. “You are the last person I ever expected to see with a kid. And why haven’t you told us about her?”

Malcolm manages to prop his head up and frown over at the detective. “Was I supposed to tell you while I was threatening to inject myself with a deadly cocktail of drugs or snake wrangling? Or maybe while we were resuscitating that family?”

He’s pretty sure Dani says something else, her tone sounds apologetic at the least. But Malcolm doesn’t notice as his head grows heavy and he slumps down, fast asleep.

***

When his phone rings in the middle of breakfast the next morning, Malcom realizes what a terrible fucking idea it had been to let Dani come up with him. 

“What do you want?” He sets the phone between his head and his shoulder while carefully wiping cream cheese frosting from Leigh’s face. She had gotten a little out of hand with her happy face pancakes.

Gil doesn’t respond right away, either thrown by the curt greeting or trying to figure out what he really wants to say. Eventually, Malcolm hears a sigh. “Bright,” he starts, sounding sad. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a kid?”

“Because you quit answering your phone.” 

Though hanging up in the middle of Gil trying to say something else feels immeasurably satisfying, Malcolm regrets what he’d said almost instantly. Not for being acerbic or anything like that, but because it probably gave away a little too much. There’s no way Gil hasn’t started putting together the pieces. He wonders how much Dani had told him, if Dani had gotten a feel for Leigh’s age just from the quick encounter she had with her. 

“Daddy, stop.” Leigh tries to shove at the napkin he’s still rubbing against her face. 

“I’ll stop when you’re clean, Sunshine.” He pokes the napkin around her chubby cheeks before swiping away the last of the frosting that made it to her forehead. “If you played a little less with your food, you wouldn’t have to worry about this”

She looks up at him, eyes wide and curious, which is always a dangerous thing on his daughter. Then, slowly, she reaches out and places her hand right on his cheek. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t made it to her frosting covered fingers yet.

***

Malcolm knows he hasn’t gotten out of an explanation to Gil. Though he’s terrified he’s not ready, that he won’t know what to say to the man the next time he sees him, he tries to focus on his day. They go from breakfast to the Disney Store since Leigh needs a new tea party dress and it has to be from a princess. Afterwards they have lunch with Grandma, then head home to try out the new duds. It’s a good day.

Until their tea party is interrupted.

While Leigh is pouring cherry kool aid from her plastic tea pot into little plastic tea cups, there’s a knock on their front door.

Which shouldn’t happen, because the security on the building is supposed to be top notch and anyone who has his code to get to the elevators already has a key. 

Unsurprisingly, he finds Gil on the other side of the door.

“What are you doing here? How did you even get up here?” Malcolm asks the second he sees him, just barely refraining from simply slamming the door in his face.

“Cop,” he states rather simply. Which does, unfortunately, cover a whole manner of sins. “And I wanted to see you. I’ve been trying to talk to you, really talk, since you got back, Malcolm.”

That has Malcolm’s anger rising up instantly. It’s been three years… pushing four. Gil hadn’t bothered answering his calls and then never actually reached out to him a single time since Malcolm had stopped trying. He purses his lips and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to keep from just exploding on the man right then and there.

“You didn’t talk to me until you needed me,” he says as quietly and evenly as he can manage through his pain and anger. “So until you need me again you can…”

“Daddy?” 

Malcolm groans but schools his features into a smile before turning to see Leigh coming around the corner from the living room. She’s the picture of adorable toddler in rainbow tights, a tinker bell dress, butterfly wings and a purple rapunzel tiara. “Aren’t you supposed to be pouring the tea?” He asks her kindly.

In the doorway, Gil gasps. It’s a quiet sound, barely audible, but when Malcolm spares a glance he sees the wide, shocked look on his face. His lips are parted and he looks like he’s forgotten how to breathe while he stares down at the little girl with his skin tone, his black hair, and his beautiful dark brown eyes.

“Who are you?” Leigh asks, coming up to where they’re standing. “You want tea?” She holds her tiny plastic scepter out and points up at Gil.

Swallowing heavily Gil drops to one knee and Malcolm has to look away for a second at the reminder of just how good the man has always been with children. 

“I don’t think I can stay for tea, sweetheart. But in answer to your first question, my name is Gil.” He holds out his hand for her and Malcolm can already see his bottom lip is beginning to tremble. “What’s your name?”

Leigh takes a moment to study Gil’s hand, tilting her head back to look down her nose with a frown. Whatever she sees, though, seems acceptable, as a second later her smile is back in place and she grabs several of his fingers and shakes them vigorously. 

“My name is Leigh. But when I’m in trouble, it’s Gillian Leigh Bright.”

Gil can’t seem to hold back on the surprised huff of air or the tear that suddenly falls down his cheek. Before Leigh can notice or say anything though Malcom kneels down as well and grabs her attention. “Why don’t you go back to your current party guests? I’ll be there in just a minute okay?”

“Okay, daddy!” She does a little pirouette then takes off back down the hall.

Malcolm stands, and the silence settles in. 

He watches Gil, still kneeling, more tears streaming down his face with his hand covering his mouth. Malcolm’s heart aches at the sight, over everything that has happened and is going on. He hates seeing Gil like this, so lost and upset and broken in pieces. But he had tried, he had tried so much. It was Gil who had cut him off, cut him out. And Malcolm needs to remember that. 

When Gil finally stands, there such a deep sorrow and loss in his eyes that Malcolm almost hugs him.

God, why can’t he get over this man?

“She looks just like you,” Malcolm says quietly, daring to look him in the eyes again.

If anything, Gil seems to break even further. “ _Malcolm._ ”

“You should go.” The front door had never actually gotten closed so he pulls it a little wider, dropping his gaze, unable to look at the man he still loves despite knowing he should have given up on him years ago.

He hears Gil move, sees his feet cross the threshold.

“I’m so sorry, Malcolm.”

“Yeah. I know.”

***

When Gil calls him in for the dead body in the park that winds up having a missing brain the Lieutenant is distant with him for the whole case. It’s not an angry or cold distance, and Malcolm feels like the older man is giving him space more than anything else, which he is eternally grateful for.

But when he goes in the day after Render is arrested to fill out paperwork, Gil asks to see him in his office and he knows his temporary reprieve is at an end. 

The second he locks the door, blinds all closed, Gil leans back against it with a heavy sigh.

“How do I fix this, Malcolm?”

Which is the million dollar question. He doesn’t have a clue what he should say, especially since any amount of effort on Gil’s part means Malcolm is going to give in. Despite the pain, despite the tears he’d shed over the older man over the years, he still loves him. Will probably always love him.

“I don’t know.” Malcolm sinks down onto the far end of the couch and drops his head into his hands. “The fact that you tried before you even knew about Leigh is, honestly, the only reason I’m even having this conversation right now. But, Gil, I trusted you, more than anyone else I’ve ever trusted in my entire life and you just…” He looks up then, ashamed of the tears welling up in his eyes. 

“I abandoned you.” Gil makes his way to the couch as well and sits next to Malcolm, close, but not touching. He looks just as miserable as Malcolm feels and that is, however slightly, comforting.

“You broke me.” 

“Fuck, Malcolm I…” Gil looks like he wants to reach out for him, to touch him or hold him. “I never meant…” But he holds back, hand wavering in the air before he finally drops it back in his lap with a shake of his head.

“I know, Gil. I do. But it happened. And I shouldn’t have given in that night but I did and now…” Malcolm wipes at his eyes, hating himself for reacting this way, for feeling this way, for never being able to hate Gil for any of this despite everything he’d done. Well, hadn’t done.

“I just, I need time. Time to figure out what is going on in my life right now. Everything, not just you and all of this, is so much and so heavy. I won’t keep you from her, but I won’t let you be her father, either. Not yet. You gave up that right when you gave up on me.”

Gil looks like he wants to argue but knows better. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before dropping his head with a sad nod.

“I understand. But Malcolm, please, know that I will never, if it takes the rest of my life, stop trying to make this right.” The look in his eyes is so honest, so earnest, that Malcolm almost gives in right then and there. 

But he can’t. He has more than himself to worry about now. He can’t take the chance that Gil will see this as just another mistake, another difficulty that he handles badly and people get caught in the crossfire, that Leigh will get caught in it. His little girl is the most important person in the world to him and he’ll do anything to protect her, even close off his own heart to what he wants.

“Thank you, Gil.”

***

After they arrest Axel and Joey, Malcolm goes straight home and tries to just forget about anyone that isn’t his little girl. He doesn’t want to deal with any of them, anyone who calls themselves family. It’s all too much and he’s so tired, so tired of being lied to and manipulated, of being worn down until he feels like there’s nothing left of himself. 

He gives Andy the next day off and promises Leigh they’ll spend it doing whatever she wants. And they do, and it’s exactly what he needs. A morning spent at the park chasing her around while she makes new friends so easily, lunch of chicken nuggets and sweet potato fries, an afternoon spent at the little book shop he’d found a week earlier where Leigh finds a dozen new books she just has to have. The shopkeeper falls instantly in love with her, as most people do, and promises to let Malcolm know anytime they get something in that Leigh might like. 

There’s more shopping after that where he indulges her need for glitter and sequins and frilly skirts and finally the last couple hours of daylight are spent at a pottery studio getting paint on everything except the picture frame in front of her. 

His heart is lighter than it’s been in months as he carries her up to their apartment, passed out over his shoulder. 

A few minutes after he gets her into bed, Malcolm’s phone buzzes. 

He’s been ignoring calls most of the day, but when he pulls it out notices that it’s a text from Gil.

 _Can I come up?_ _  
_ _I’d buzz but I don’t want to wake Leigh if she’s already out._ _  
_ _I brought a peace offering._

Malcolm can’t help but smile and shake his head. Of course he’s considerate of things like that. He sends a quick affirmative and sends a buzz down to security so Gil can come through. 

“Hey, Gil.” He holds the door open and gestures inside, still in a relaxed enough mood from the good day he’s had that even the sight of the older man doesn’t cause any knots or tensions. Yet. “Drink?”

“Sure.” 

They don’t talk for several minutes while Gil quietly looks around the apartment and Malcolm pours them both a small tumbler of whiskey each. He wonders why this seems so natural, so much easier than any interactions they’ve had lately especially after their disagreements over this case and his mother. But it does. 

Maybe it’s the day he’s had.

Maybe it’s Gil’s promise to try.

“DA called,” Gil starts with a nod of thanks once Malcolm hands him his drink. “They’re pressing charges against Joey and Axel. You were right, Axel helped orchestrate a cover up for his old friend.”

“Bringing me something I could read in a report isn’t exactly a peace offering,” Malcolm says with an easy grin.

Gil’s own smile is soft and he nods before taking a small sip of his drink. He moves closer to Malcolm, setting his tumbler on the bar then clearing his throat.

“You’re going through a lot,” he starts. “And I should have paid more attention to that, to what you need. I know I can be… short tempered sometimes.” Malcolm snorts and licks his lips, dropping his gaze. But Gil barrels on. “ _But_ given a little distance I can usually come to my senses.” He reaches into his coat and produces a VHS tape clearly labeled “Evidence” and holds it out for him.

His eyes are full of worry when Malcolm looks back up, shocked. “Are you completely sure you want to see this, Malcolm?” 

“I have to know,” Malcolm responds without hesitation. He’s frustrated by the tremor in his fingers as he reaches out for it. Once it’s in his hands he holds it gingerly, like a bomb just waiting to go off. 

“I should leave you to it,” Gil says while stepping away. 

But he doesn’t want him to go, doesn’t want him to leave, to be left alone. He’s so tired of being left alone.

“Don’t.”

It comes out as barely more than a whisper, far more desperate than he’d like to admit. 

Gil stops in his tracks and turns back toward Malcolm, one brow raised high. “Malcolm?”

“I just… I might have questions? Or I don’t know just, don’t go.” He swallows and looks down, unable to look him in the eye while he feels so vulnerable, actively asking him to stay.

When Gil comes back, he stops just out of arm's reach. “Whatever you need.”

Malcolm digs his VHS player out of storage and works in silence to hook it up to his TV, thankful it’s a quick process. Once he has everything set and ready to go he takes the tape from Gil, who has shed his jacket and stands silent in his soft black turtleneck, pops it in and hits play.

The second his mother is on the screen, the rest of the world fades away. His chest slowly twists up in a thousand knots with every passing moment, every word she says. When Gil’s voice comes over the speakers he barely notices, so focused on his mother’s face, on her unshed tears. For a moment, he’s heartbroken. The feeling that she had lied, that _Gil_ had lied about all of this threatens to break him until…

“ _I thought it was another woman._ ”

Malcolm can’t breathe. His tears match his mothers, drop for drop, as he continues watching a little while longer, dismal and ashamed of everything he’d said to her, everything he had implied. His words had to have hurt even harder than she’d let on and he can’t believe he’d stooped so low without any evidence, any proof. 

A warm, heavy hand rests against the back of Malcolm’s neck and he turns instantly, burying his head against Gil’s strong shoulder. “Malcolm…” Gil breathes out, wrapping his arms around Malcolm’s much smaller frame and holding on tight.

No matter what has happened, no matter how he’d been hurt or how long it’s been, it’s here he feels safe. Safe to fall apart, to shout and scream at the world even if it’s in silence. 

He hasn’t been held like this in years, and it just makes him sink into his embrace even further. He _needs_ this. Needs Gil. 

“I said such awful things to her, Gil.” Malcolm bangs his head against the older man’s shoulder, hands gripped tight into the soft knit fabric of his sweater. “Terrible things. I asked her about the night I told her about the girl, so why didn’t she just tell me?”

“Hey, look at me.” Malcolm leans back and does just that, grateful Gil doesn’t drop his hold but just moves to grip him firmly by the arms. “I’m not making excuses for anything she may have said, but it is possible she just didn’t remember. It was twenty years ago and so much happened so fast. Her life was turned upside down.” 

“Yeah, I know. I just,” he sighs. “I need to apologize, I need…”

“Daddy?”

Malcolm jerks and steps back, turning to find Leigh walking into the room rubbing one eye and clutching onto Rarity, her favorite My Little Pony, like her life depends on it. “Did I wake you, Sunshine?” He asks, dropping to one knee as she comes close and immediately wiggles into his arms. 

“The bad pictures.” He holds her close and lifts her up, wishing he could kiss away her nightmares.

When he looks back at Gil, he answers the silent question in his gaze. “She gets nightmares. Nowhere as bad as mine, thank god. But it’s still kinda crappy.” In his arms Leigh twists her head around and looks at Gil too, frowning for a second before hiding her face. 

“You remember Gil?” Malcolm asks her with a slight bounce and a soft tone. “He was here a couple weeks ago?”

She nods and looks again, holding out her hand to wave which as close as Gil is brushes lightly against his arm. 

“Soft,” she whispers then touches it again, rubbing his arm with her tiny fingers.

Gil suddenly looks like he’s going to cry again but manages to swallow and speak softly. “Yeah,” he says, hesitating a moment before touching a single finger to the back of her hand. “My sweater’s soft.”

The sad smile on his face nearly breaks Malcolm’s heart and he realizes he has a decision to make. Leigh is still trying to touch the soft knit fabric of Gil’s sweater, even going so far as to wiggle in Malcolm’s arms so she can be closer. He can readjust her in his own arms, walk her back to her bedroom and lay with her for a little while, cuddling until she falls back asleep.

Or...

“I think she wants you to hold her.” He shuffles closer to Gil and speaks quietly, watching as the older man’s eyes go wide and his mouth drops in surprise. Malcolm doesn’t want him thinking he can make decisions or anything properly parenting related but that doesn’t mean he can’t let the man try and be close to his daughter.

“I - are you sure?”

“Your hugs always made my nightmares go away.” 

Gil closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, silent for a moment before nodding slowly. 

Malcolm is careful handing her over, helping Leigh adjust where Rarity is in relation to the arms holding her up. She winds up laying her head in the exact spot Malcolm had, right against Gil’s shoulder with her face against his neck. 

Everything in his world suddenly shifts at the sight of Gil holding his little girl, holding her safe and close. He starts swaying a little, humming something just loud enough to be heard in the silent room while holding her against him with a wide hand rubbing her back. Leigh closes her eyes and Malcolm can spot the moment her breathing evens out and she begins to drift off again, faster than he’s used to.

“Wow, your hugs really are magic.” He looks up and his heart clenches to find Gil staring down at Leigh, eyes glassy with unshed tears and his lips trembling.

“God, Malcolm. I don’t,” he closes his eyes and presses his nose against her hair, whispering softly as a tear falls across his cheek. “I don’t know how you can ever forgive me. I doubt I’ll ever forgive myself.” 

Malcolm doesn’t even try to stop himself from reaching up and swiping a thumb across Gil’s cheek to wipe away his tear. “Whatever happened between us, and whatever we do next, you gave me Leigh. Everything else is secondary to her.”

When Gil just silently nods Malcolm runs his own hand through her soft black hair. “You can try to put her to bed again, but the second you let her go she’ll probably just wake up. Or you can get comfy on the couch for fifteen minutes or so.” He opens the ottoman up and snatches an extra large fuzzy throw, pretty sure what Gil’s going to choose.

Sure enough, Gil carefully makes his way over to the couch and lays back against the arm rest, holding his daughter like she’s the most precious thing in the whole world, never taking his eyes off of her.

As Malcolm tucks the blanket in around Leigh he’s struck with such a whirlwind of conflicting emotions he knows he can’t stand there and stay in one piece. “I’m uh, I’m going to take a quick shower if you’re okay here for a few minutes?”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t.” He waits for Gil’s nod though the man never looks up at Malcolm. He’s gone from holding her tightly to running his fingers through her hair, tracing the curves of her ears and nose. 

Malcolm almost bolts from the room to keep from letting Gil see him fall apart. Less than a minute later he’s in the shower, letting the sound of the water mask any sobs he accidentally lets escape. 

Seeing Gil and Leigh curled up like that, seeing how easily she had fallen into his embrace, sends a rush of emotions through Malcolm’s heart that he’s too broken to handle well right now. Gil had touched her the same way Malcolm does, held her and kissed her hair without thinking. But he’d missed all those moments, all those early days, of learning how she liked to be rocked, the songs that worked best when she was just a little too fussy to go to sleep. He’d missed all the firsts, the first words and the first steps, her first smile and her first laugh. He’d missed all the sleepless nights, the worry the first time she got sick. And yet here he is, holding her like he belongs there, like it is the most natural thing in the world when Malcolm had tried and struggled so hard on his own for so long to feel like he was doing anything even remotely right. 

It isn’t fair.

And he wants to hate him for it, for all of it. For missing all those milestones, for not being there for her, for him.

But when he sees the way he looks at her, hears the pain in his voice every time he tries to apologize, tries to make things right between them, Malcolm can’t help but remember all the reasons he fell in love with the man in the first place. 

***

  
  


When Malcolm wakes and feels genuinely refreshed for the first time in longer than he can remember he knows something is wrong. Other than the ache in his jaw and fuzzy memories for what happened the night before he feels great and that is more worrying than it should be. He knows he got his mother to take Leigh for the evening then tracked down Esteme’s club where he knew he’d find Dani. He’d learned a lot but once the gunfire started up everything went a little… grey. There are vague recollections of dancing and a discussion of cheese but other than that he’s going to have to get a recap from Dani. Making sure his pajama bottoms are tied tight and throwing on a loose tank, Malcolm goes to find her. 

Unfortunately, when he pokes his head out into the living room it’s not Dani he finds, but Gil, fast asleep on his couch in the clothes he was wearing the previous night and under a Tinker Bell blanket. He lets himself stare for a minute, resting his shoulder against the wall with his arms crossed and a soft smile. Gil is snoring lightly, looking as uncomfortable as hell twisted up on the couch. But the pink and green blanket just gives the whole scene a kind of charm that warms Malcolm’s heart. 

After he feels like he’s creeped on the sleeping man long enough, Malcolm steps into the kitchen to start up some coffee. As he’d expected, just a few minutes after the aroma starts to fill the apartment he hears a groan and shuffling in the next room. 

Gil is rubbing his face and bleary eyed when he comes in, slinking down into one of the barstools and staring at the coffee cup Malcolm places in front of him like it’s a pot of gold.

“Good morning!” Malcolm makes sure to sound even more chipper than he feels, which is still surprisingly a whole hell of a lot.

Gil just looks at him with a grumbly face then takes a long, slow swig of his coffee. Once he’s done he inhales the scent and Malcolm watches with glee at the small uptick at the sides of the older man’s lips. Then he puts it down and nods towards Malcolm. “Now, you may talk.” His voice is tired and raspy and Malcolm finds himself aching to hear it like that more often.

“I um, I may not have a clear recollection of last night but I’m fairly certain someone far younger and far more feminine brought me home,” Malcolm says while adding a bit of sugar to his own mug. 

It takes a minute for Gil to answer as he’s taking another long draw of coffee. He holds out his mostly empty mug in a silent request for more. “That’s right. But I was worried about you. I sent her home about three o’clock? Maybe closer to four.”

“Did I do or say anything…” Malcolm bites his lip, sure he could dredge up memories somehow. He’s suddenly also very worried he may have said too much to Dani while she was here.

“Well...” Gil looks away and there’s a host of conflicting emotions playing out on his face including a wary smile and a sadness in his eyes. “I think Dani knows about me and Leigh if the way she threatened to maim me if I ever stepped out of line is anything to go by. Though I don’t know how much you told her or she just figured out on her own. She also said you had an episode and she wound up punching you out because she didn’t know what else to do.”

Malcolm rubs his jaw and nods. So that’s why he had slept so soundly. 

“And at the club…” Gil lets out a humorless huff of a laugh and turns back to face Malcolm full on, his face neutral but eyes giving away something like fear. “You grabbed me and told me how much you hated that you didn’t hate me for abandoning you.”

 _Of course he did._ In front of Dani, too, most likely. Malcolm leans heavily against the kitchen counter and drops his head, ashamed that he’d let that out but also that he wasn’t lying. 

“Was it true?” Gil asks, quiet, as if he’s afraid of the answer. 

Malcolm considers lying, thinks about attributing it all to the drugs, to a highly altered state of mind. Or maybe circling around the answer, giving a non-answer. Brushing it off. 

“Why does it matter?” He asks in defeat, unwilling to lie or give a straight answer. 

Gil stands with a sigh, leaving his coffee to wander slowly towards the living room, forcing Malcolm to follow. The sun is still low in the sky, casting a soft glow around the open and airy space and Malcolm just wants to crawl back into the dark cave of his blankets and hide forever.

“It matters,” he starts, staring out the massive windows. “Because if you didn’t - don’t, hate me, then why did you… fuck. I don’t know how to say this.” 

Malcolm bites his lip while watching Gil try to work through whatever is going through his head.

“Last night, all night, even at the crime scene, those words kept playing out over and over in my head. ‘ _I hate how much I don’t hate you for abandoning me.’_ But they didn’t make sense. Because if you didn’t hate me, which, honestly I’m still not sure I believe, then why would you keep this from me?”

Even though he doesn’t look angry, just confused, Malcolm can’t help the way his jaw drops in incredulous shock. “Are you actually standing here asking me why I didn’t tell you about Leigh? Seriously?”

“I _know_ that everything is ultimately hinging on the fact that I shut down and cut you out, but Malcolm, why couldn’t you, I don’t know, leave a little more detailed voicemail? Anything.” 

Malcolm can’t believe what he’s hearing right now. The audacity for Gil to blame him for not trying _hard enough_ when that’s all he had done for so long.

“Fuck you, Gil,” he nearly spits out. “I called you every day until the day she was born.” His blood is already threatening to boil, anger and hurt mixing together to form a painful combination. 

“It’s a three hour train ride from DC to New York.” 

“Yeah, and it’s a two second effort to pick up the goddamned phone! Why the hell should I have gone out of my way, huh? Gone through all the extra effort when you couldn’t do something as simple as that? Do you know how many times I stopped myself from leaving a voicemail telling you everything? That maybe if you didn’t want me, you’d at least want her and then I could have some small part of you? But I just… I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t put it out there, take the chance that you’d want her and not me and it would have broken my heart far beyond what you had already done.

“You are not her father. You are the man who fucked me then left me. I never owed you anything once you did that.” He hates this, hates that he’s having to rip himself open over and over again, hates the tears threatening to overflow. “Three _years_ Gil,” his voice breaks and he holds back a sob. “Why do you even care about us?”

Gil looks back at Malcolm and the glassy, shattered look in his eyes makes the younger man’s heart stop. 

Then he makes everything turn upside down with a soft, desperate, “Because I love you.”

Malcolm jerks back as if he’d been slapped. There is no way he heard what he thought he’d heard. No way Gil loves him. Not like he’d been in love with him for so long. It has to be a mistake, or just - no, Gil wouldn’t manipulate him like this. Of all the mistakes he might have made over the twenty years Malcolm has known him, he’d never stoop that low.

“What?” 

Gil sighs and drops onto the sofa, head cradled in his hands. “God, I’ve loved you for so long. Since before…” he stops and looks up at the ceiling with unshed tears in his eyes and chokes up on his next words. “Since before Jackie died. Twenty years I was married and never even looked at another person and one day you were in my head and wouldn’t ever leave. She wasn’t in the ground two months when I… I betrayed her. I betrayed both of you.” His voice is broken, lost. 

Nothing like that had ever crossed Malcolm’s mind. He had spent so long thinking that he was alone in his feelings, in how much the want for Gil had evolved over the years. Their night together was just… loneliness on Gil’s part. He’d had to tell himself that, just an itch to be scratched, convinced himself it hadn’t meant anything to Gil because if it had and he’d still left him all alone like that…

“Gil…”

“A week after that night I picked up a bottle of scotch and didn’t put it down again for a year. By the time I got my shit together I was so ashamed. And a coward. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for what I did. To you, and now to Leigh, too.”

Malcolm doesn’t have any idea how to respond, how he’s supposed to absorb all this information and fit it into what he’s thought, what he’s known, for years. Since from even before that night. He does pick up on all the emotions pouring out of Gil though, the shame and the hopelessness. 

“Are you upset that you love me?” He asks quietly, daring to take a step closer.

“I was,” Gil admits readily. “Fuck, you practically grew up in my home. I’m eighteen years older than you.”

“I was 27 that night, though. Far from a kid.”

Gil sighs. “I know. But that wasn’t it. Okay, it was a part of it. But…” 

When Gil falls silent the heaviness in the air around them is nearly suffocating. Malcolm wants to kiss him, or slap him, maybe a little of both. He can feel everything pouring off the older man and can’t tamp down on his desire to make him better, to do everything he can to make him smile. But Malcolm is so hurt, and now he’s angry too, furious at what he had said that set off this whole explosion. The torrent of emotions swirling around in his brain is starting to give him a headache and makes it hard to think clearly.

“I need… some space,” Malcolm admits slowly, not looking at Gil. “Some time to work all this through. God, Gil. I thought… I thought that you hated me for taking advantage of you in a vulnerable state, that you were ashamed just because it was me, that… any number of things except that.”

Gil stands, though Malcolm only knows by the sound and movement in his periphery. He is terrified to look at the man, terrified that he’ll give in when he really shouldn’t. It’s more than just what he wants now. He has to think about Leigh above himself, and she deserves more than someone who gives up. 

“I’ll give you as much space as you need,” Gil says quietly. “Whatever you need. And I swear to you, when you’re ready, I’ll pick up the phone on the first ring.”

  
  


***

It takes Malcolm two days to figure out what he wants to do.

It takes him over a week to build up the nerve to fucking do it. 

The weekend before Halloween, Malcolm leaves Leigh in Andy’s very capable hands and sets out for Gil’s place. Once he’s out of his building, he gives Gil a call. He figures that even if Gil isn’t available right now, he needs the air, needs the walk. If he has time for Malcolm, he’ll grab a taxi and head straight there. If not, Malcolm will always find interesting things wandering the city. 

When Gil actually answers before the first ring is finished, Malcolm bites back on a smile.

“Hey, Malcolm.” 

They haven’t seen each other since the night Gil made his confession, not even for a case. He sounds wary, but happy to hear from Malcolm.

“Gil! I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” 

“Never. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Well, maybe? I don’t… can I come over?” Malcolm rolls his eyes at himself for feeling like a flustered teenager and flinches at the way he sounds.

Gil’s response is immediate, and enthusiastic. “Absolutely. You need a ride?”

He declines and lets him know he’ll see him soon, then hails the next cab he sees. It’s not a terribly long ride to Gil’s place, but the traffic is just heavy enough it takes a few minutes extra. Which is a few more minutes of worry, of bouncing his knee and a trembling hand while he thinks over what he’s going to say to Gil for the three hundredth time that day. He’d even gone so far as rehearsing it in the mirror for crying out loud. 

When the cab pulls up though, the long ride suddenly seems like it had been infinitely shorter than he’d been expecting and he stares up at the house with apprehension settling low in his gut. He can do this. He can. He can face this. 

It takes him a few more minutes to finally force himself out of the cab and he tips the driver extra before the guy takes off. 

Then he’s standing there, alone on the sidewalk.

The town house is one he knows almost better than the home he officially grew up in. It had changed his life, as had the people inside it, so many times over the years. And the last time he’d been here his life had been altered so completely, so thoroughly, that he wasn’t the same person any longer and could never go back to that.

Which is why he has to get this out. Because he is a father now, with a little girl to protect.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t _want._

Gil pulls the door open and stares down the stairs at him with a soft smile before Malcolm ever budges from his spot on the sidewalk.

“You gonna come in or stare all night?”

The house is warm, as it’s always been. And Malcolm gives Gil his coat without thinking when the older man offers to take it for him. They head to the little living room and though Gil gestures to a seat, Malcolm just starts to pace. 

“Are you sure everything is okay?” Gil asks, watching him closely.

“No. I’m not. But I think it is. At least, I hope it is. Or, it will be. Whatever. I need to tell you something and I need you to let me get it all out before you say anything. Can you do that?”

“Of course. Whatever you need.” 

“Okay.” Malcolm takes a second to gather his thoughts all back up into something resembling order, takes a deep breath, and faces Gil head on.

“Gil. I love you too.” Gil’s eyes go wide and he bites down on his lips, obviously not expecting that. “I love you. I did then, and god help me I still do even after all this time. I never stopped loving you. When you stopped answering my calls, even before I knew I was expecting, it broke my heart. I felt cold, lost, abandoned like I’d never felt before. And you _know_ what my childhood was. Every time the phone just rang and rang and rang another piece of me just kind of… shattered. But I guess, even through all of that, something stayed. Because I knew I was hurting so much because of how I felt. I would remember your laugh, your kindness, the strength of your heart, and even through the pain I still loved you. I still wanted. And I still want you now. I still love you.

“But love isn’t enough anymore. Leigh is the most important thing in my life. I would give up my own life for that little girl. And as much as I want you, I can’t let you do to her what you did to me. I can’t let her get attached, to let you get under her skin and be such an integral part of who she is and then watch you walk away and tear her up like you destroyed me because it gets too hard or because you’re upset with yourself or feeling guilty over something - even if the guilt is perfectly reasonable. She _has_ to come first.”

Gil looks devastated. He reaches for Malcolm and the younger man lets him, grabs Gil’s hands and holds them close to his chest. “Malcolm…” Gil breathes out his name, lips trembling.

“Let me finish, please.” He knew this would sound bad, that it would sound like he was walking away, but he’s not. He can’t. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to. “I love you. And I _want_ you in my life. In our life. I want to try. But this is a one time offer, take it or leave it, and you don’t get a second chance.” 

With a trembling hand Gil cradles Malcolm jaw, stroking his thumb along his cheek. His eyes are swimming in unshed tears but there’s so much hope, so much love there, that Malcolm can’t breathe. 

“God I love you so much, Malcolm,” he whispers, voice wet. “I am going to do everything I can to make this work. And I promise you, even if you and I _don’t_ work out, Leigh will never get anything less than 100% of me.” 

Malcolm kisses him.

He kisses him because he’s wanted to since he got back to New York, because he’s missed him so much it was a black hole in his chest, because he loves him.

Gil holds him tight, slotting their lips together perfectly, moving delicately as they relearn what they’d never had a chance to properly take in the one time before. Malcolm holds on for dear life, licking lightly into Gil’s mouth and delighting at the lingering taste of coffee that’s so achingly familiar. The kiss lasts what feels like a lifetime, tender and sweet, just as soft a landing as Malcolm needs right now.

When Malcolm finally stops to breathe he finds himself wrapped thoroughly in Gil’s arms, their brows resting against one another and simply existing in the same space. 

There’s so much still to work out, to talk about. And he still hasn’t forgiven him. But he needs this, needs Gil so much, that he’s willing to take this chance. 

“Monday,” he says quietly with his eyes closed and his fingers playing with the soft ends of Gil’s hair. “We’re going to the children’s museum. Join us?”

“Are you sure?” Gil pulls back just enough they can both focus on each other, see each other clearly. His cheeks are streaked but he looks happy, content, for the first time since Malcolm has seen him since he got back to New York. When Malcolm nods, a brilliant smile takes over his face, lighting up his eyes. “Just say the time. You want me to pick you up?”

“You’ll need a car seat.”

“I think I can manage that.”

***

  
  
  


Leigh doesn’t let Gil out of her sight the entire time they’re at the museum.

The instant they are through the doors, he’s the only one she wants to talk to, the only one allowed to answer questions. Every time he speaks she only has eyes for him. All of the exhibits are interactive, hands on activities to teach kids from the youngest toddlers like her up to upper elementary school. In the body exhibit, Gil shows her the heart rate monitor and gives her gentle thumps against her chest to show where her own heart is beating. There’s a skeleton puzzle he helps her do, trying to get her to at least match basic size to the gap in the table where it fits. He and Malcolm have a competition to see who can get the fastest speed at the pitching net that tries to talk about muscle coordination.

Leigh is just delighted that Gil wins. 

“Axe throwing is my specialty,” Malcolm huffs with no real heat behind it. “You know this. It’s more about precision than raw power.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Gil’s smile betrays how hard he’s holding back from outright laughing and Malcolm can’t help but return it. 

In the water exhibit, they all get soaked despite the vinyl aprons they try and protect themselves with. There are giggles and splashes and a small, tiny, smidgen of actual learning going on. For the most part, Leigh learns how to make a water cannon with her fist and that getting Daddy’s face wet makes Gil laugh louder than she’s heard him yet. 

This is, apparently, the greatest thing since sliced bread as she continues to do it through the entire maze of water activities.

“Come here, sweetheart. I wanna show you something.” Gil lifts Leigh up once they’re through the other side and dried off under the strong air dryers that they have to practically pry her away from. The next room is all music and sound related, with electronic sound mixers, laser harps, large percussion pipes, and a dozen other activities that go on around the corner and out of sight. They stand in front of the tall, silver pipes, all of them various sizes. The smallest one is still taller than Malcolm is. 

“Here.” Gil hands Leigh one of the mallets that’s tied to a post right next to the set up. “I want you to whack it really, really hard.”

She looks delighted and uses both hands to swing. Though a quick noise breaks loose, the mallet stays in contact with the metal and it goes quiet just as quickly. She frowns and tries again producing the same results. “Here,” Gil offers, “why don’t you let your daddy try?”

“No, you!” She shoves the mallet into Gil’s free hand and stares at him pointedly. Malcolm can’t help but let out a little laugh and gesture for Gil to go ahead. With a quick flick of his wrist Gil pops the mallet against the smooth metal and a bright, clear tone rings out through the space. 

“Now,” Gil says, discreetly handing the mallet to Malcolm and grabbing Leigh’s hand to hold it up near the vibrating metal. “Do you feel that?”

She lets out a peal of giggles. “It’s fuzzy!” When they fully touch the metal, hand over hand, and the sound disappears she pouts. “Do it again?”

For several minutes they play with the pipes, feeling the vibrations of the various pitches and confirming that yes, sound is fuzzy. When she eventually seems like she’s done with the pipes themselves, Gil guides her hand to rest gently at the front of her throat. “Can you hum for me?” 

When she does her eyes go wide with excitement. “Leigh fuzzy!” She reaches for Malcolm who grabs her hand to make sure she doesn’t push too hard and he sings a few notes of her favorite song from Moana. “Daddy fuzzy!” She does the same for Gil, a delighted cry of “Gil fuzzy!” But then she smushes her hands into his beard and squinches up her face. “Gil extra fuzzy.”

Malcolm loses it. He goes light headed from laughing so hard and has to hold onto Gil’s shoulder to keep himself upright. When he chances a look up at Gil and sees the exaggerated pout on his face while he tries to rub his beard against Leigh’s cheek, it just makes it worse. 

“I think your daddy thinks we’re funny,” Gil says completely deadpan. 

“Daddy’s the funny,” Leigh replies just as flat. 

It’s Gil’s turn to laugh at that.

The rest of the afternoon is just as light, just as full of moments that Malcolm hopes to remember for a long, long time. They make it through several more interactive exhibits before going downstairs to the mock town that’s set up there with areas set up to represent different businesses including a bank, doctors’ offices, construction sites, and a grocery store where the kids can learn about what goes on there. 

Leigh only makes it half way through before she starts drooping, begging to be picked up and letting her head rest against Gil’s shoulder.

When Malcolm catches her eyes starting to close, they call it good and promise her they’ll come back another time to see everything else. 

They hadn’t started the museum until after her nap time, and it’s dark when they make it back to Malcolm’s apartment. Even though she nods off in the car, she is still awake enough through a quick but late dinner and insists on a story before bed. Malcolm gives in of course. He does his best to never turn down a request for reading. 

But, in a turn of events that shouldn’t surprise him _at all_ after the last several hours, she hands a book to Gil instead.

Gil takes the book with a soft and reverent smile, glancing to Malcolm who nods his silent approval, then follows them to Leigh’s bedroom. 

There, he sits at the foot of the bed while Gil and Leigh curl up against the headboard and he watches, heart full, as he reads her Goodnight Moon in a sweet, slow tone. Malcolm has to hold back on his tears when she falls asleep against Gil’s chest and he keeps reading just as if she was still wide awake and alert. When the book is done he gently closes it and holds her for a while, simply letting her sleep.

Eventually they work together to get her settled under her own blankets and sneak quietly out of the room.

Malcolm is extremely proud of himself for not pouncing on Gil as soon as the door is latched firmly shut. Instead, he grabs his hand and takes him across the apartment towards his room and shuts that door as well before dragging him down into a deep, needy kiss. 

Gil goes oh so willingly, curling an arm around his waist and holding him close. But he doesn’t let the kiss linger long. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Absolutely, Gil,” he responds before surging up for another kiss. “I need you.”

Apparently, GIl doesn’t need any more encouragement. He leads Malcolm back to the bed and lays him out without ever parting their lips, exploring his mouth with a greedy tongue, nipping at his lips, hands slowly going for his buttons. They go mind numbingly slow in all the best of ways. Every kiss Gil presses against his skin is a caress, his touches all whisper soft. When his lips aren’t on Malcolm’s body, they’re on his mouth, claiming him while he takes him apart with his hands. By the time they’re both naked, Malcolm is achingly hard and leaking against his own stomach and Gil hasn’t even touched his cock. 

But as Gil begins to slide his hands down Malcolm’s thighs, to gently guide them apart Malcolm grabs him by the wrist. It takes him a second to gather enough breath to speak. “Wait, I want…” he swallows.

“Anything,” Gil assures him with a kiss to his neck. 

“Switch with me.” 

They shift and move, Malcolm delighted to straddle Gil’s hips and get his turn to really explore - to really _look._ His lover is long, lean muscle tone still evident in his chest and arms with just a touch of softness around his middle. He lets his hands wander, brushing against dark nipples that earns him a quick inhale of breath and a grin. “I wanna blow you,” Malcolm tells him as he leans down and begins kissing his jaw, down the tanned skin of his neck and across his shoulders. They’re all feather light, ghosting across his flesh in a way that makes Gil shiver beneath him.

“Yes,” Gil grips him by the hair to beg for more propper kisses, to press their lips together and lose themselves there until Malcolm can’t take it anymore. He needs to feel him, to taste him.

With less patience than he’s had so far, Malcolm shifts down on the bed, giving Gil’s thick cock a few teasing strokes before getting into place. 

Malcolm has dreamed of this, wanted it for so long. He licks a long, wet stripe up the base of Gil’s length, glancing up beneath his lashes to see the way his whole body shudders at the sensation. When he finally takes Gil into his mouth, he circles his tongue around the head then sucks lightly, just enough to tease the older man into bucking up to seek more before taking him in to the base. Gil squirms beneath him, bites at his lip to keep from crying out and making too much noise while Malcolm bobs up and down, swirling his tongue and occasionally hollowing out his cheeks without any rhyme or reason. 

One of Gil’s hands is in his hair, occasionally clinching just enough to threaten a pull, a tug, and Malcolm wants him to, wants him to fuck up into his mouth. But not this time. He’ll have another chance, time to talk about what they like, what they want. Now, he just gives Gil everything he can, to make it as good as possible until a gasp finally slips out and Gil does tug at his hair.

“Fuck, Malcolm, too close,” he breathes out into the darkness. Malcolm pulls off with a filthy pop, kissing all around the base of Gil’s cock and leaving his fingers gently fondling his balls. He needs more than this, wants to feel him inside him again. 

“Come here,” Gil demands. Apparently he wants more too.

Malcolm crawls up Gil’s chest, reaching out for the night stand to grab his bottle of lube and quickly tear open the box of condoms to grab one before kissing Gil quite thoroughly. 

As slowly and tenderly as Malcolm has ever experienced, Gil opens him up, one finger at a time. Malcolm stays on top, riding Gil’s fingers in a tease of how he wants to ride him properly, sharing wet, filthy kisses that only ever stop when Gil adds another finger, or bends them just right to make Malcolm cry out, biting back as soon as he realizes he’s making too much sound. The minutes stretch on indefinitely, Gil playing Malcolm’s body like an expert even though this is only the second time they’ve been like this, been so lost together. By the time Gil has three fingers buried deep and stretched so beautifully wide Malcolm has to bury his face against the older man’s necks to muffle his cries.

“Please, fuck, please Gil,” he manages between heavy breaths. “Fuck me. I need your cock.”

“Fuck Malcolm.” Gil grips his hair to guide him around again working his lips and light brush of teeth just against his pulse point at the side of his neck while he slips his fingers free. A whine gets caught in Malcolm’s throat at the loss, but soon enough Gil has rolled the condom on and is guiding Malcolm back by his hips, lining up, and encouraging him to sink down.

The first full stretch is absolute bliss, Gil’s cock slowly spreading him open as he takes him in. They both go breathless, Gil’s grip tight enough to bruise while Malcolm’s hands shake against the older man’s chest. When he’s fully seated Malcolm closes his eyes and basks in the feeling of fullness, in the connection between them as he adjusts and lets his body get used to the welcomed intrusion. 

Gil strokes Malcolm’s legs, rubbing slowly up and down and when Malcolm finally looks again, he finds dark brown eyes staring up at him with such reverence he almost closes his own again.

Malcolm leans forward, letting his hips roll as he does, just a touch, just a quick slide up and down Gil’s cock as he gives his lover a slow and soft kiss. As he kisses him, Malcolm begins to move.

He rides Gil slowly, staying close and connected for a long time while he builds up the pleasure again, takes them both right to the edge and back over and over until neither can breathe in anything other than quick, deep gasps of air, unable to focus on anything but the way their bodies slide together. As much as he wants to kiss him, wants to explore Gil’s skin with his hands everything in Malcolm’s world narrows down to the slide of Gil’s cock into his body, the way he fills him, stretches him, makes every inch of his skin come alive with electricity and desire. He tries too hard to stay quiet, to hold back on the gasps and shouts that want to escape.

But when Gil shifts his legs, gives himself leverage to take more control and gets a firm grip on Malcolm’s ass, all bets are off. 

Gil pounds up into him, meeting him thrust for thrust until Malcolm comes with a loud, drawn out shout, coating Gil’s stomach and chest in thick ropes of white. He trembles through his orgasm, drawn out by the way Gil doesn’t let up, keeps snapping his hips up over and over until Malcolm can’t even see straight. Then he drags Malcolm down onto his cock, hard, one last time before stilling with his head thrown back and mouth hanging open in his own silent release. 

Malcolm drops heavily against Gil’s chest while both of them try to catch their breath, floating in the haze of ecstacy brought on by the strength of his orgasm. He becomes aware of Gil’s hands first, stroking lazily up and down his back, tracing the ridges of his spine one right after another. The touch draws him back to reality, back to Gil, who is slowly softening inside him. When Malcolm glances up, he meets such a loving gaze he can’t help but smile and offer a slow, sweet kiss. 

In his oversensitive state, Gil’s beard tickles at Malcolm’s nose and he giggles, shaking his head to try and brush off the sensation. 

“You’re extra fuzzy,” he tells him in a failure of an attempt to be serious, unable to even keep a straight face through his lingering laughter. 

Gil’s smile is breathtaking, but tears well up in his eyes, threatening to fall despite his easy smile. 

“Thank you so much, Malcolm.” He runs his fingers through Malcolm’s hair. “For giving me a chance. Today was… just… so amazing.”

They kiss again, and hold one another for a long time, forgetting for just a little while that anything exists but this moment. 

Eventually, Malcolm forces himself up, pokes his head out of the door to make sure there’s no one making any noises in the apartment, then goes to the ensuite to get some warm, damp cloths. 

After they’re cleaned up and cuddled together again, Malcolm takes a deep breath, and takes a chance.

“Stay?” He asks Gil, quieter and smaller than he intends. 

Gil just holds him tighter and grabs the blankets to pull up over them both. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

***

**Epilogue: Two Years Later**

Malcolm paces the kitchen with his phone in hand, staring at the alert that his package is currently out for delivery. He’d requested one day delivery, signature required, and paid extra to have it dropped off by a small courier service at a very specific time. Then he’d sent his husband and daughter out to pick up lunch so they’d be gone when it got there. 

But so far, it’s half an hour late and he’s anxious. 

He’s not good at keeping secrets from them, too excited most times to really hold back. And this one is huge, massive, and he has a very specific way he wants to surprise them with it and it’s all going poof in front of him with every minute that passes. 

Just as his phone pings and pops up ‘package has been delivered’ the front door of the apartment swings open. 

“We’re back!” 

_Fuck._

“Welcome back, Sunshine! That was really fast!” Normally it takes them ages to pick up from the Thai place and when he sees Gil coming in to set the overloaded bag on the counter he raises a single brow in question.

“I finally downloaded the app you’ve been bugging me about for six months.” He shrugs and leans in to steal a kiss from Malcolm which he gives easily, lingering a little longer than strictly necessary. “Cut the time it took in half.” Which is exactly what he’d been trying to tell him all six months but why did the man have to pick today of all days to do it?

“Daddy! You got a package!” Leigh barrels into the kitchen and hands him the small plain white box with a simple delivery label on it. “Papa wouldn’t let me open it.”

Gil snort and shakes his head. “Because Papa learned the hard way not to accidentally spoil possible surprises.” 

Malcolm bites back on a laugh and takes the box to the living room where he decides that this is still okay. There’s absolutely nothing on the package that would have given it away, even the return address simply states that it’s ‘fulfillment services’ and not the company. Not that either of them would have necessarily recognized it, but just in case. 

“Hey, can you two wait for lunch for just another minute or two?”

They both nod and join him, sitting together on the couch after he points rather sternly to the center of it then stands in front of them. “It’s a good thing you didn’t open it because you’re right, I hate it when you spoil my surprises.” 

Leigh jumps up, her long pigtails bouncing in her excitement. “Is it a surprise for me?”

“Kind of,” Malcolm says. “It’s really for both of you. Or, well, all of us.” 

He hands the box to their daughter and watches with a wide smile as her still tiny, five year old hands attempt to peel back the tape. “Why don’t you let Papa help you with that?” He suggests.

Gil holds out his hands but instead of handing it over Leigh just twists on the couch and sets it in between them so he can help, not do it for her. When Gil nods silently and begins tugging at his end of the packing tape Malcolm feels his chest flutter with so much love for the both of them he has to cover his mouth to hide his gasp. 

The box pops open and Leigh tears into the tissue paper at the top to pull out the dress that’s folded up tightly within. She holds it up between her and Gil so that the back is facing Gil, which is an even better development than Malcolm could have ever hoped for.

“How is a dress for all of us?” Leigh asks skeptically.

“Read it out loud for me, Sunshine.”

With a heavy sigh she begins, “Big… s.. Sis…”

“ _Malcolm…”_ Gil’s head whips around to look up at him, wide eyed and slack jawed while Leigh continues sounding out the second word on the dress. 

“Big Sister! It says Big Sister. Wait…” First she looks at Gil, who is still staring at Malcolm, then over at Malcolm who is holding a not too discreet hand over his still flat stomach that won’t be that way for very long. “I’m... I’m gonna be a big sister? I’m gonna be a big sister!” Her shout of excitement and subsequent laughter seems to break Gil out of whatever trance he’d found himself in and he surges up to wrap his arms around Malcolm, bringing him in for a deep, loving kiss.

Malcolm returns the kiss with abandon, so content and so happy he couldn’t adequately describe it if his life depended on it. 

With his husband in his arms, their daughter clinging to his leg and the newest life they’ve created together growing inside of him, Malcolm feels wonderfully, blissfully, complete. 

  
  
  



End file.
